


Evening Ball

by Joxepe



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:40:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1569635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joxepe/pseuds/Joxepe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that the war is ended, they have decided to disband the Shepherds, and, as a farewell, they decide to hold a ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evening Ball

It was during a ball on the midsummer’s evening when they danced in the Palace’s atrium as a final farewell to the Shepherds, and the heated day translated into a heated evening. The music played from inside and from all sides, which, muffled through the walls, sounded like so many warbling thrushes in the thickets. Chrom was there, with Robin entwined in his arms and pressed against his chest, murmuring the beats beneath his breath- One, two, three, one, two, three, turn, repeat, one, two, three, one, two, three… 

“Your legs are too wide apart, Your Highness.” Robin chided, and Chrom smiled. He has never felt comfortable with those titles and honorifics: Your Highness, Sire, Prince, Conqueror of the Conqueror, Hero, Slayer of the Fell Dragon Grima, et cetera, et cetera, titles which reduced him to his position, to his bloodline, to a single event, to a series of event; they always seem to suggest to him, perhaps, that there wasn’t a man or a personality below all of that. Yet, Your Highness, Prince, Sire… with Robin, however, they become endearing and tender, the distance in those words turning into intimacy by the alchemy of his intonation. 

“To be taught social grace by an amnesiac… Robin, I swear, after tonight, I am through with all this dancing business.” Robin frowned, and they turned one more, each step and misstep matched to never break harmony. 

“But you need to dance with the Plegian and Valmese representatives two weeks from now, that’s why we are practicing tonight.” Right foot forward. “They only know you from the war as their conqueror.” Left foot back. “We need to show them that we are willing to cooperate with them in peace.” Beneath his arm and turn. “The dance is a perfect metaphor for that.” Repeat. “Our nations, each one of us is a dancer, trying to match our steps to each other, our every action coordinates and needs to be coordinated by the action of our partner.” One, two, three, one, two, three, turn. “In working together, we create something beautiful.”

“I suppose, but I can always stay here and create something beautiful with you.” They stopped to rest, Chrom and Robin, as the music stopped, and didn’t return when the music started up again. “Something that does not involve dancing.”

“You say these things, Chrom, and that is how rumors are born.”

“Rumors?” Chrom teased, and Robin blushed. Chrom has always found that there was a strange beauty in the blush that came over those pale cheeks, a strange beauty in him, in his silver hair (odd, perhaps a Pelgian phenotype), in the idea that he, who could sit around the campfire in the company of soldiers and trade obscene jokes and compose dirty doggerels for their amusement, would redden like a ripening strawberry at so small a thing.

“Perhaps we have had enough rest; we still need to work on your pacing. Your footing. Perhaps your posture as well.” 

Stahl watched as them as they returned to the dance, Chrom and Robin, and he, the former, with him, the latter, entwined in his arms and pressed against his chest, murmuring the beats beneath his breath- One, two, three, one, two, three, turn, repeat, one, two, three, one, two, three...

“Hey, Panther.” Sully approached him, with her tousled and jutting red hair, closely cropped to the head, flame like; the children would sing to tease her when they were younger “ball of flame, ball of flame, what’s her name, what’s her name, Sully, Sull,y the ball of flame…” 

“Ah…Your…” Your Majesty? Queen? My Lady?

“Sully, or Bull, we have fought together after all.” Bull and Panther, Cain and Abel, the two knights who joined legendary King Marth in his quest to slay the dragon Medeus, but who were they? And, in a few year’s time, who was Stahl? “Stahl, knight in the service of Chrom during the Two Pelgian Wars, the Valmese War, and the slaying of the Fell Dragon Grima.” Perhaps a word or two about his origins: “son of an apothecary, joined the Shepherds at nineteen, two years before the start of the First Pelgian War, and was trained by Frederick.” And some whimsical irrelevancy: “likes to take long naps in the middle of the day.” Maybe sandwiched between a single lined entry on Vaike (Refers to himself as “Ol’ Teach”, was killed in the Battle of Port Ferox) and Cherche (Wyvern rider, joined the Shepherds during the beginning of the Valmese War). There, done, a small paragraph in the twenty tomes record of their conflict. 

“So, Panther, what are you going to do now that the Shepherds is being disbanded?”

“I will probably go back to my father, continue to train as an apothecary, take over the business. Frederick offered me a post in the military, but it just doesn’t feel right to take it, you know, I mean, if they are trying to cut back on spending and all that, then I shouldn’t take it…goes against the reason why the Shepherds are being disbanded in the first place.”

“You believe that whole ‘spending reduction’ and ‘reinvestment’ bullcrap?” Sully shook her head like a parent who has heard their child suggest something so incredibly naïve, it becomes charming. “Robin suggested it, you know, Prime Minister Robin now, I suppose. They can’t afford to keep us around anymore, not after we ran around two continents to save the world, yet they are still able to keep the Pegasus Knights, to pay ‘indemnities’ to all the damn bumpkins who claim that we ruined their farmland saving their asses.”

“Didn’t they plan to get rid of the Pegasus Knight latter this month?”

“It doesn’t matter, what matter is that Prime Minister Robin is jealous, he thinks that you are a threat to him and his alone time with His Majesty. F’ing prick. He can steal my husband, fine, I don’t care anymore, but now he’s taking away the Shepherds from me as well.”

“Steal your husband…?”

“Yes, steal my husband, suck him off, take that royal cock up his ass...”

“Ahem,” Stahl cleared his throat, not so much to clear his throat as for the effect, and to get Sully to stop. “Aren’t they just rumors, though?”

“It isn’t. They don’t even try to hide it anymore, and me, well, I serve my nation, I gave the Halidom an heir, they don’t need me anymore, just like they don’t need the Shepherds after the war is over.”

Stahl watched Sully, eyes likes the ashes of resigned anger, lean back, holding the glass of wine with uncharacteristic grace. “Nobody cares about us, they will praise us to the skies, erect memorials, have us attend, celebrate, and then let us starve and shiver the rest of the time. Maybe not me, I still have to be around to stand around, look pretty with Lucina hanging around my legs, smile, and pretend that I am a loving wife and good mother, even when everyone knows who Chrom is shagging.”

She grabbed Stahl by his shirt, surprising him, and brought his lips upon hers. “Stay, take the job. ‘Two wrongs do not make a right’, but I really don’t give a shit about what is right. At the very least, I can be happy.”

**Author's Note:**

> The ending was probably really rushed, but I really didn't know how to end it.


End file.
